


spontaneous kissing (the crystal knows best remix)

by celli



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Chromatic Character, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-11
Updated: 2011-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a hundred people that go in and out of the coffee shop every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spontaneous kissing (the crystal knows best remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [untitled spontaneous kissing scene (locked to cookleta members)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2681) by aohatsu. 



> Written for the calledmelovely drabble remix challenge.

There are a hundred people that go in and out of the coffee shop every day – the businessmen and women buying their multishot whatevers to get them through hours of meetings and mergers and doing whatever good businesspeople do. There’s the late night date crowd, the ones who order with an eye on the other to make sure their drink choices aren’t being judged and found uncool. And there are students by the dozen, streaming in and out between classes for a quick hit and curling up in the armchairs by the window to read giant books with confused expressions on their faces.

David watches them all, and he finds them all endlessly fascinating. He even talks to them every once in a while when the writing is going well, or when someone looks like they really won’t go away without a verbal brushoff.

But only one of those hundred people is Corner Booth Kid. The Kid, as David thinks of him in shorthand, is definitely a student. He always has a bulging backpack and at least two more books in his hand, and he comes in at least twice a week to sit in the corner booth, drink apple cider, and write, by hand, page upon page of something in his old-fashioned spiral notebooks. David wasn’t even sure they still sold those things before he saw one in the Kid’s hand.

At first, he’s just someone else to observe over the top of David’s laptop when he needs to tear his eyes away from the screen for a second. Then David catches himself checking the corner booth when he gets up for his lunchtime cup and sandwich and when he comes back from his mid-afternoon walk around the block. And apparently it’s only a short step from there to scanning the university course schedule to try to figure out which class the Kid is coming from. He has it narrowed down to Modern Drama: 1945 to the Present, Creative Writing III, and Fencing as a random outlier because those aren’t terrible biceps the Kid has on him, and he does sometimes have damp hair when David hasn’t noticed it raining out.

(Although once they were in the middle of a tornado warning and David only noticed when the power went out. He doesn’t look outside all that often.)

“Are you going to make him a character?” Crystal asks him one day as she’s wiping down the cream and sugar station.

David’s hand jerks, and even more sugar than usual dumps into his coffee. “Shit,” he says. “Wait, what? Who?”

“Your lying is crappier than your coffee habits, O Great American Novelist,” Crystal says, grabbing the cup from him. “You know who. Apple cider with cinnamon, no caramel. _Him_.”

“I hadn’t—I mean—if I say yes will you give me my coffee back?” He’s not blushing. He’s not.

“Let me fix this,” Crystal says, and since the counter is in the opposite direction of the corner booth, David follows her.

She dumps his old cup straight in the garbage with a disgusted face and picks up a new cup. “Same roast?” she asks, like she doesn’t know David just orders whatever’s first on the list every single day. He’s here for the caffeine, not the flavor. He nods anyway, and she fills it up. “Or maybe you want to put him in a different book.”

He just blinks at her.

“Your little black book?” Crystal has a way of making you feel really stupid.

“I don’t—I don’t—“

“Have one? Use one? Date? Communicate with people you’re attracted to?”

Really, really stupid.

“I have to finish my chapter,” he says, and he’s sitting down and buried behind his laptop screen before he realizes he left his coffee on the counter. He’s not going back for it.

He tries to go back to his hermit ways, but Crystal will have none of it, and it doesn’t help that Corner Booth Kid is over there even more often than usual. Must be midterms or something. (He has the university calendar memorized. It’s midterms.) He’s having trouble with something, so he mutters to himself and chews on his bottom lip a lot, and really, David is only human.

“Fine,” he says one day, making Crystal stutter to a stop and nearly drop the cup she’s handing him. “You won’t be happy until I make a fool of myself, will you?”

“Not really.”

“Well, get ready.” David chugs the coffee, ignoring the burn to the back of his throat, and stomps over to the corner booth. The Kid looks up at him, all wide eyed and beautiful. David opens his mouth, closes his mouth, opens it again, and then just lunges forward and kisses him, because Crystal is right and he’s just that stupid.

It’s fantastic.

He falls more than sits into the chair across from the Kid, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. “Hi, I’m David,” he says. At least the Kid will know how to address the restraining order.

But, “Hi,” the Kid says, and he’s smiling back. He’s smiling back. David’s heart wobbles in his chest. “I’m David too.” And then he’s laughing, and Crystal behind them has been laughing for a while, and David starts giggling hysterically too. If this is making a fool of himself, he wants to keep doing it forever.


End file.
